


Curl up at my side

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Play, Established Relationship, How Do I Tag, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I wrote this in an hour, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, My First AO3 Post, My First Fanfic, Not Beta Read, Will probably never be, i can't write, not finished
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 00:53:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14965562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Lucius is very insecure about his sexuality. Harry proposes something that might help.





	Curl up at my side

**Author's Note:**

> I'll just be honest: I can't write. English isn't my first language, and I hardly ever write. This probably won't ever be finished. Just enjoy what is here and be gentle with me pwease.

Lucius Malfoy is an incredibly hard man to date. It took me ages to get him to let go. After all, between both wars, raising a child and keeping up the Malfoy façade he hardly had any time to spend with his wife. Not that he had any interest in her, but I doubt she knew that. According to Abraxas Malfoy, no good pureblood heir could be interested in men. Of course, that mindset didn’t stop his only son from doing exactly this. He believed, mistakenly, that he could revert his son back to normalcy, the same way the Dursleys thought they could beat the magic out of me. Maybe that’s why I sympathize with him this much. He once told me, with mumbled and slurred words after too much expensive wine, that the most open-minded opinion he had heard during his childhood was that love for men could be seen as a sport, not an identity, or a respectable relationship. And so he married Narcissa black, a woman who he appreciated, but could never love, and raised his beloved son with her.  
Lucius doesn’t want to admit it, but I believe the abuse he had to endure this affects him to this day. To this day, I still occasionally need to rush out of our bed in the night to rip razors out of his hand, I still need to hold him during seemingly random outbursts of fear and anxiety. Sometimes, he leaves me for days or even weeks to stay at Malfoy Manor after ‘realizing’ that his current lifestyle is a sin and an outrage, words that he had been taught with his father’s cane. If I look closely, I can still see soft pink horizontal scars on his arse. He tells me that it doesn’t bother him. And I suspect that is in fact partly true. He can’t see the pattern of pink lines, so he isn’t bothered by them. I can’t say the same for the emotional scars though. Even after his wife passed and his son had become independent of him, he refused to get involved with other men until I came along. He seemed to enjoy my company, and when I asked him if he was interested in dating me, he said yes. And still he was reluctant to kiss me, and sex just wasn’t happening with him. Now, three years into our relationship that has mostly changed. He’s still insecure, but we’ve become way more intimate. I was even pleasantly surprised by his confession that he could not imagine himself as the top. Which is what I had hoped for, being with a man with an arse like that. But he’s still shy, never asking for the intimacy he so desires, never brave enough to express his love in public.  
That shyness is exactly why he doesn’t dare to look me in the eye right now, sitting on the sofa in front of me, looking at the pages of the book on his lap describing the play I’ve requested. A pink blush spreads from his cheeks to his nose, and then the rest of his face. All his muscles are tense. He abruptly rises from his seat and quickly makes his way over to the door of our sitting room. “Lucius?” He doesn’t answer. “Lucius, I don’t need you to tell me what you think right now. Just,” he stops, his hand gripping the doorpost. “talk to me.” I sound a bit more desperate than I hoped for. “I’ll think about it,” he said, and quickly leaves, slamming the door. I take a deep breath. His reaction wasn’t nearly as bad as I feared. I pick up the book, taking a last glance at the pictures Lucius was just looking at. It’s a muggle book, so the picture doesn’t move. It depicts two people, one sitting on the other lap, lazily sucking a pacifier, the bulge of a nappy obvious under a romper suit. The other one has his arm wrapped around the first one. Both have a soft smile on their faces and look a bit sleepy. I smile back at them before closing the book.  
I don’t think I was wrong to assume that Lucius might like to feel some of the innocence and security the picture shows. I’ve noticed before that from time to time he likes to let me take control. Tonight is one of those times. I told myself to not remind him of our talk and to let him take the time to figure out his how he feels.  
We always get into bed early on Saturday nights, drinking wine, reading, and talking. When he comes into the bedroom, I’m already under the covers, sitting up against the headboard, a bottle of wine on the nightstand. Without saying anything, he crawls into bed with me, curling up at my side. I pour him a glass and look at him. He’d probably be furious if I told him how cute I think he looks, with his eyes small from exhaustion. He’s wearing a muggle shirt and boxer, which he now prefers after I introduced them to him. He’s unconsciously making himself as small as possible. I hand him his wine. He mumbles a thanks. I pretend to be reading, but I can’t keep my eyes open. “Maybe we should just go to sleep,” Lucius says with a soft voice after a few minutes. We curl up under the sheets, his knees pulled up, his face pressed into my soft stomach. It’s silent for some time.  
“I can’t believe you would desire such a thing”  
“It’s not that weird. I want it for you, mostly”  
He’s quiet for a few moment. Then he whispers: “why?”  
I sigh. “I don’t know. The people in those pictures, they look so…” I pause, looking for the right words. “Peaceful. Innocent. All their troubles forgotten. And I thought you might like the aspect of me taking control. You do during sex.”  
He buries his face deeper into my stomach. I smile softly at his shyness.  
“It’s not that unusual, you know. Quite a lot of people do it.”  
“I know.”  
That surprises me. “You do?”  
“I’ve…thought about such things before. I just can’t imagine actually doing it. It feels wrong to sexualise children.”  
“Is it sexual?”  
He bites his lip. “No, I suppose not.”  
I stroke his hair. It’s longer than it used to, and he braids it into French braids before bed so it’s kind of wavy during the day. He takes a deep breath. “I…I think it would be nice to at least try. Nothing extreme.” He looks up at me. “I won’t let you humiliate me. I will set strict boundaries, Mister Potter.”  
I smile and kiss his lips. “Whatever you want.”


End file.
